


Scars

by Shantae



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: Fluff, M/M, mentions of torture (its not too bad), this.... is gay.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shantae/pseuds/Shantae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look at this.” Rutger sat upright in their bed, rolling up the sleeve of his nightshirt and exposing his shoulder. “It’s in the shape of a heart.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> diecks support with lot gets me every time
> 
> I HATE how i can't work on my drafts yet i think of a new idea and finish it in like. 2-3 hours. why
> 
> anyways i love my gay dads

Dieck didn't hide his scars. He didn't think scars should be hidden. They were evidence of hard battles and should be treated as medals embroidered on the skin. Every scar had its own story, after all.

He found them to be beautiful on others. He knew it was intrusive, but he couldn't help but ask when he noticed a particular big scar on someone. Most people would look at him weirdly, telling him it was ‘just a battle scar’ or just an accident. Others would tell him entire stories, going in full detail on when, where and how it had happened. Dieck liked that. Scars should be worn proudly, whether it was a battle scar, an accident or even self inflicted. It was a part of your life, after all, and it would continue to be.

Rutger didn't have many scars. He had small ones on his arms and legs from playing around as a kid, and a big one on his thigh from when an enemy knight got a lucky hit in. Dieck didn't ask about the small scars. He knew Rutger didn't like talking about his past and he didn't want to push him. He knew that if Rutger wanted to talk about it, he'd mention the topic himself. 

One time, he did.

“Look at this.” Rutger sat upright in their bed, rolling up the sleeve of his nightshirt and exposing his shoulder. “It’s in the shape of a heart.”

It was in the middle of the night, Dieck was almost asleep, but if Rutger wanted to talk about his mysterious scars then Dieck wouldn't let that opportunity get away. He had noticed that the swordsman had been restless, and perhaps what he was about to tell him was the cause of that. Dieck sat up as well and rubbed the sleep out of his face.

“A heart?” he groggily asked, “How'd that happen?”

Rutger smiled at Dieck’s sudden enthusiasm. “It’s actually two scars that form a heart together.”

Dieck traced the heart with his finger. “That's so cool. That might be cooler than my face scars.” Rutger chuckled at that. “...How did you get them?”

Rutger stared at something behind him, smile slowly faltering. Dieck took that as a sign to kiss the scar, hoping to snap him out of his thoughts. “You don't have to tell me,” he mumbled against the skin.

“It happened years ago, when I went out fishing with my dad. I got too excited about a fish, and, well… the hook got my shoulder.”

Dieck chuckled softly. He couldn't help it, it was just too ridiculous. Rutger playfully pushed his head away. “Stop laughing!” He whispered, but couldn't hide a smile of his own.

“Which one is the hook-scar?” Dieck asked, back to tracing the lines of the scar.

“The left one. The right one is from a battle… Had it not been for you, it would've been much deeper.”

Dieck looked up, confusion evident on his face. “Wait, what? What battle?”

“On the isles. One of those pirates got a lucky hit in. If you hadn't been there to stop him midway he probably would've chopped my arm off.”

Dieck remembered. He, Fir and Rutger kept the pirates at bay while the others dealt with the other army. They were sword users, and quite fast too, so the pirates were no problem for them. That's what they thought, at least. Dieck had almost screamed when he saw a pirate ambush Rutger and immediately impaled the man with his sword. Rutger had breathed heavily, clutching his arm and shock still evident on his face, and muttered a quick ‘thanks’ before he ran off to take down more of those damn pirates.

“You should've treated it right there,” Dieck said, a frown on his face, “Maybe you wouldn't have gotten a scar from it.”

“Maybe. But then I wouldn't have a heart on my shoulder that reminds me of you everytime I think about it.”

Dieck loved scars. They told a story, hold a meaning, even. It was so cheesy, but so beautiful, and Dieck was grateful Rutger had told him about it. It had made him speechless, so instead of saying anything about it he just kissed Rutger. He felt him smile into the kiss, one of his rare genuine smiles, and he couldn't help but smile too. When they parted, Dieck hugged him and fell back on the mattress.

“Now that you have that off of your chest, how about we finally go to bed,” Dieck whispered, “I don't think they'd appreciate it if we're too tired to fight tomorrow.”

He heard Rutger sigh in defeat and felt him shift in his arms, making himself comfortable. In the end, he pushed Dieck’s arm under his back away, mumbling something about ‘too damn hard muscle’, and Dieck snickered. He turned around to lay on his side, back to Rutger, arm under his pillow, and tried to sleep. As always, his thoughts just drifted off again.

Dieck liked his own scars. Even the ones on his face, which he had gotten when protecting a child from a lion. He was proud of them, lines on his face that said yes, he had been in a fight, and yes, he didn't come out unscathed, but he had won. All the scars on his torso reminded him of the battles he's had, too. One on his shoulder was created by the same lion. Another one, down his abdomen, he had gotten in a fight against a few cavaliers when he had gotten too cocky and thought he could deal with all of them on his own. He could, but not without a few wounds and a scolding from Rutger. A particularly deep one was on his chest, back from his pitfighter days. Naturally, he had won the fight, but if the healer came one minute later he would've been dead. Nonetheless, he was proud of his scars. Well, most of them.

He hated the ones on his back. Absolutely loathed them. They were the ugliest things Dieck had ever seen. Long, deep gashes running horizontally and diagonally along his back. He hated the look of pity people gave him for it, and he hated how no one dared to ask about it, even though he wouldn't want to talk about it anyway. They reminded him of his capture, of how his freedom was taken away all because of a stupid war between the man that had hired him and the man that had captured him. It was his own fault, those were the risks of his job after all, but it didn't stop him from continuing his profession. He needed a way to make money, and swordsplay was the only thing he was good at. He'd just have to be the strongest, and make sure not to slip up so badly ever again.

One might think that if Dieck hated the scars so much he'd cover them up with a shirt, but Dieck felt like he'd lost the fight if he did that. Being forced to wear a shirt because of the scars felt like his freedom was being taken away again, and now that he knew how important freedom actually was he never wanted to lose it again. So he showed his scars of proudly, all of his scars, saying that yes, he had been captured, yes, he had been tortured because of some argument and yes, it was absolutely sickening, but he was alive and he was free and he was happy and that was all that mattered.

The only ones who he had actually told about what had happened were Lot, Wade and Rutger. Lot and Wade knew because they were like brothers, and he might have had a drink too much when he told them, and they might have been a little intoxicated when he told them, but after he told them they never stared weirdly at the scars again nor asked about it.

He had told Rutger because well, it was Rutger. He knew he could tell Rutger everything, no matter how ridiculous or severe. Rutger had listened, not once showed him the pity look he hated so much, but instead he had kissed the scars, and Dieck decided that that was a way better altenative.

Even now the slim man had turned to face Dieck’s back and was tracing the lines of the scars, following his finger up with a trail of soft kisses pressed against the damaged skin. He felt Rutger’s other arm snake around his waist, and he moved his own arm to catch his hand with his own. 

“Good night,” he felt a hot breath whisper against his skin, and he smiled at the tingling sensation.

“Gnight,” he mumbled. Yeah, Dieck liked all of his scars.


End file.
